A collection of memories
by EscapeArtist-AX
Summary: (pretty self explanatory.) Just a bunch of Lorien Legacies pairings. Disclaimer: I own only the ideas in this fanfic Warning: cuteness and feels Pairings include, Nine/Six, Eight/Marina, Ella/Two, John/Sarah
1. Confidence (Marine and Eight)

**hi guys, I decided to do this because I was bored. I know it's kinda short but I hope the cuteness makes up for it.**

Confidence

_Marina_

Marina huffed, twirling a strand of her dark hair around a pale finger, she gazed longingly at the boy who sat a few tables behind her. He was so close-yet so far. She forced her head back around and glared at her desk. She could hear him laughing-feel him. She wanted so badly to just turn around and watch his rosy lips curve into a smile, she loved his smile. She wanted to do so many other things. Marina wanted to prance up to him, grab his face in her hands and kiss him. Kiss him like there was no tomorrow. Marina wanted to slide her fingers under his cotton shirt and feel his heartbeat there, right next to hers. She wanted to bury her face in his wild curls and inhale their lavender scent.

They weren't just selfish desires, or useless wants. They were needs. She needed him.

He laughed again and Marina sighed, banging her head on the desk. She glanced up the clock, 10:26. Just four more minutes of this torture. Her math teacher was ranting again, stupid stuff, like angles and pi blurted out of his mouth and ricocheted off her eardrums. The only thing that seemed to make it to her head was his giggling. It buried itself deep inside her ears and slid down to her chest were it gnawed at her heart. It wasn't his laughter, she loved seeing him happy, it was who he was laughing with. She wrapped her slim arms around her head and tried, so desperately to block out the sound.

"Marina," Mr. Lumas asked, "could you please collect the papers?"

It was never a question, beneath the friendly façade Lumas was a monster. Nodding, she peeled herself off her bench and stood wearily, gazing around the classroom. It was a regular high school classroom. Two barred windows, that reminded her constantly reminded her that she was trapped, stood behind _him_. It was stupid, crushing on a boy whose name she didn't even know. She pressed a hand to her chest and blocked out unwanted feelings. Marina smoothed out the fabric of her pale dress, ran both hands through her umber hair and made her way towards him. Hoping pathetically, that she did not trip.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

-Joseph-

"...And then we hid the money down his shorts, because, you know, no one would look there," Lara emitted a hyena-like giggle before continuing on with her story, "And that's so, just totally robbed the guy, you should have seen his face. It was like; bluuurggh," the girl beside him made a disgusting face, "And then we ran out, the man was so old he had to hobble round the back of the counter before he could actually chase us down the street, it was hilarious, I mean, if you can call crawling, running . . . "

"You know that's illegal?"

Joseph lifted his head to face the girl in front of him, her voice had cut through his daydreaming like a knife through hot butter. Her wide blue orbs stared directly into his green ones and he had to resist the urge to sigh in content.

Lara let one a shrill, mocking laugh, "Of course I know it's illegal, that's why I did it."

Marina huffed in frustration and Joseph had to sit on his hand to stop himself from punching Lara in the face. He knew it was wrong, to hit a girl, but he could barely stop himself.

"But it's not nice. He has osteoporosis. It's not healthy for him to be running."

Lara smirked, "That's the other reason why I did it."

Marina's jaw dropped and she stared at Lara, a look of pure hatred burning in her eyes. She closed her eyes and stood there for a second, completely exasperated-before grabbing both their test papers and disappearing.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

-Marina-

She was wrong. She was so terribly wrong. How could she have been that dumb? A boy like him was destined to be rude. He was destined to be mean and obnoxious and selfish and cruel, he was destined not to care. Marina crossed her arms over her chest and walked home. The rain poured down in buckets, saturating her hair and gluing her shirt to her skin. Her brown boots filled with water and each step felt like an awkward sloosh that got her nowhere. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision, she lifted an arm and wiped them away, furious with herself. Why was she crying? He didn't do anything.

 _Exactly_ , a voice in her head cooed, _he didn't do anything. He didn't stand up for you._

Nevertheless, it was stupid. Her feelings were pure idiocy. She was an idiot.

But she couldn't stop the tears that followed, they stung her eyes and dripped down her cheeks like blood. Like blood from a wound, her wounded heart.

The next day was horrible, she avoided him, dropped eye contact and spoke at the bare minimum. He tried to talk to her, cornering her in the hallway and bombarding her with questions, passing notes to her in class (until she raised her hand and Lumas gave Joseph a much needed detention), poking her in the back a million times at lunch just to get a response out of her, even if it was anger, even if she threw her spaghetti at his face. Of course, Marina was touched that he tried, she wanted so badly to just smile at him, to glance his way one last time so she could see his glowing, green eyes, even if they were pricked with annoyance. But she didn't-not once. Because that would just encourage him. And if he did something else, even if were laughing at her, making some crude remark, she would lose it.

O_O_O_O_O_O_O_

"Marina," he poked her side. She turned away from him and buried her nose in a copy of 'Jane Eyre.' It had been over two weeks since she had last spoken to him.

"Please, Marina," Joseph pleaded. Marina swallowed hastily and focused her attention on the book, her eyes scanning a single sentence over and over again.

"Mar-inaaaa," Joseph sighed. She bit down hard on her bottom lip. Why did he have to be so tempting? She loved the way he said her name, the way his tongue rolled over the 'r' and the slight accent that invaded his speech with every 'm.'

"Hey, I've read that book too," Joseph blurted and Marina arched a thin eyebrow, her dark lips curving into a smirk. She could tell he was lying; his nose wrinkled ever so slightly every time.

"Really?" She asked softly, lifting her gaze to his.

"Yes." He said rigidly and Marina had to stop herself from giggling when she looked down at his nose.

"Okay then, what's the book called?"

Joseph scratched the back of his neck nervously as his eyes flew to the book's spine. He scanned over the letters, "J-Janelle Eyre," he stuttered.

Marina snorted, "Who's the main character?"

"Janelle?"

She laughed, a sweet, intoxicating sound that he had been dying to hear.

"No, dummy," she responded, a ghost of a smile still visible on her face.

"Then wha-"

Her lips cut him off. Joseph's hand snuck around Marina's waist and her hands rested on his chest, not restraining him, or pushing him off, they simply laid there. And she smiled, when she felt his heartbeat quicken.

 **Please review- it inspires me to continue writing. I'm open to requests (comment below if you have any)**

 **Just PLEASE review. I really want to know what you think of my stories.**


	2. A day of training (Nine and Six)

**This is something I wrote a long time agon (atleast a year, I think), and I thought I'd share it with you because I've been MIA for a while.**

 **Also, this story follows no storyline, it's just a series of tasteless one-shots, that I write when I'm trying to rid myself of writers block. So updates are spontaneous.**

* * *

BAM! BAM, BAM, BAM!

The air dances around me as I leap around the room, shooting blindly at targets. My eyes are covered in a dark satin cloth that is tied securely around my head. Beads of sweat roll down my neck and my fingers are glazed in a layer of moisture so thick that the shotgun seems to slide out of my hands like water. My tight, training gear clings to my body as I pounce around the room like a lethal panther. My surroundings turn into a blur of colour, the only things left before my eyes is the model of a Mog, in all it's glory, eyes wide, tongue lolling out of it's mouth in mock fear. I imagine it standing before me, in plain sight. Imagine it's scared eyes and desperate pleas before I silence it's useless cooing with a bullet through the groin. Harsh-I know. I've been harsh all my life.

Pulling the cloth off my head, I open one of my dark, auburn eyes and examine my shots. All have hit their mark-the first two creating holes right between black Mogadorian eyes, the third through a scrawny chest and my last shot, has blown a pair of Mog balls to bits. Smirking to myself, I reload the gun.

"Maren," I whisper softly, liking the sound of my human name. It rolls off my tongue effortlessly and bounds into my ears, "Maren, Elizabeth." I allow the nostalgia to consume me for just one moment, some of the best moments in my life have happened in my time as Maren.

I aim the loaded gun back at the Mogs and smile, savagely, showing off my crooked teeth.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

"You do know that real Mogs won't just stand there and let you shoot them." Someone calls from across the room, I can almost feel an aura of attitude washing off the person.

"Yeah," I retaliate, not looking back, "Real Mogs would sit there crying waiting for their 'Beloved Leader' to come save them. A shame that these ones can't do that."

Nine laughs from behind me, "Have you ever, actually, seen a Mog cry?" He responds, in an unnaturally deep voice.

I turn around sharply to face him, "Have you?"

He sweeps his jagged fringe of inky, black hair out of his maroon eyes and sneers, "Not yet."

I turn back to the dummies and keep firing, shooting all ten fingers off a Mog.

"What I'm trying to say is, that shooting models is useless."

"Then what do you suggest I do?"

"Try stay alive."

I blink in confusion, but all that comes my way is an iron fist. It strikes my left cheek so hard, that tears brim my eyes, I blick them back and cough up blood.

"Come on, Six," Nine jeers, "I thought you were better than that."

I stare at him wide-eyed, "What the hell Ni-"

His other hand strikes the other side of my face, this time, I try latch onto it and pull him down, but he is too fast and his hand is gone before I can even acknowledge my broken nose.

"Shut up and fight, Six, or are you going to have conversations with the Mogs? You know, maybe just invite Ra out for dinner?"

I growl at him like a wild animal and charge, anger flowing through my veins. How dare he mock me?

He sidesteps easily and I find myself crashing into one of the walls of his training hall. Equipment tumbles onto me, bruising my back.

I turn around fiercely and wait for him to make a move. He does-almost immediately and runs at me, full force, not holding back on his superspeed. I turn invisible and leap away from him. Nine slams into the wall too, head first. He cusses loudly before heaving himself back upright, holding equipment in each hand as make do weapons. He swings a weight blindly

"Six?"

He turns slowly, in a circle scanning his surroundings for anything abnormal, but looking for something invisible isn't exactly easy.

"Come on out, Six?" He banters, swinging the weight in a graceful arc around his body.

I pounce onto his back and wrap my legs around his thick neck like a snake. I squeeze violently and Nine gags, his chocolate eyes bulging. The colour drains out of his toned cheeks and he scratches at my shins trying to pry them a good 30 seconds, Nine makes a strange gurgling sound in his throat as if trying to say something. Reluctantly, I loosen my grip.

"Okay," Nine coughs.

"Pardon," I say all too sweetly, and squeeze a little tighter.

"Okay," Nine repeats, "You win, Six."

I grin to myself and untangle my limbs from his.

"Who's the best garde now?"

* * *

 **Don't forget to review, I'm interested to know what you think.**


End file.
